Moving Forward
by cynic.in.a.fishbowl
Summary: Leah as she gets on with her life.   Links in with Well... That Explained A Lot.
1. Prologue: Part 1

**This fic links pretty much directly into one of my other fics: Well... That Explained A Lot.**

**I've always been intrigued by Leah's character and the fact that even though fate was such an utter bitch to her, she still managed to get on with the job, her darkly cynical sense of humour intact.**

**I liked the bits in BD which were from Jacob's perspective merely because they offered more of an insight into her character and its complexities.**

**This is going to be more or less parallel with Well... That Explained A Lot, but it's going to let me delve a little deeper into Leah, which should be a terribly enjoyable experience for all of us. Huzzah.**

**It's slightly AU, since in the books Leah hasn't offed herself to college, but other than that it's pretty much canon. Apart from all my OCs. But whatever.**

**The first couple of chapters are just going to be foundation chapters, as Leah's brain walks us through what we're going to need to know for when the story itself begins.**

Prologue: Part 1 – in the beginning

I was thrilled to bits when I got the letter from Washington State saying I'd been accepted. It meant that I could finally get away from La Push and all the shitty memories it held.

Then there was the fact that I knew that if not for me, dad would still be alive. Mom and I were having a massive argument – it was a year to the day since Sam had left me, and I had cut my hair short. Sam had always commented on how nice it was back when it was long and we were together, so I felt the need to sever that link. I also felt the need to sever his head from his shoulders, but I knew that wasn't likely to happen. Mom had flipped out – she'd been treading pretty lightly around the issue for a year, and this seemed to have tipped her over the edge. We were screaming at each other, until the anger I'd felt sitting around inside me found an outlet, shifting me into a giant wolf.

Dad had had a heart attack then and there. Of course he hadn't freaked at all a week earlier when Seth had shifted. It was the fact that I was a girl that was so unbelievable for him. So he died. And I was left with the guilt. I knew that Seth and mom didn't blame me, but every so often I got the feeling that one of the guys did. And it sucked.

That was my senior year. I got my acceptance letter and finally had a way out, at least temporarily. That summer, there had of course been that whole shebang with the newborn vampires – a total waste of a summer holidays, and another reminder that even though I was able to get away from everyone's minds, especially Sam's during the year, there would always come a time when I'd have to come back and be subjected to their shit once again.

They all thought I'd gone after that newborn alone because I was trying to prove something. That was bullshit. I only got there first because they were all too slow. I'd already torn a chunk out of its leg and was doing fine when Jake came barrelling in, acting the hero. I didn't stay around any longer than I had to after that. I said goodbye to little Sethles and headed back to Seattle. I spent the summer crashing with George, one of my best friends both from high school and from my course in Mechanical Engineering. A living arrangement which apparently displeased Sam to no end. Served him right.

The next summer, the one before Seth's junior year, I was back at the rez, and once again there was a vampire related state of emergency. But this time Jake did what I'd been reasonably sure he was going to get around to doing at some point (I can't understand why no-one else saw it coming. It wasn't that hard to read the sifting power dynamics) and split from the pack. And Seth, the magnificent idiot that he was, followed him. But then I realised that that magnificent idiot might have had a point. Because if there was any chance, however slim, that I might be able to get out of Sam's head for good, I was going to take it.

So I split from the pack, was mildly grossed out by Jake imprinting on a mutant infant, participated in the most boring showdown I could imagine taking place, and then went back to Seattle. Over the course of the year, Seth kept me posted as to what was happening on the rez. As Quil and Embry split to join Jake (they were practically brothers after all), and the older brothers returned home, having finished college, only to make the shift to being wolves themselves. Josh, Max and Tim, the brothers of Quil, Brady and Colin respectively all joined Sam's pack, which (from what I got from Rachel who heard from Paul) caused a bit of an issue when Josh heard the full backstory to the whole Sam-Me-Emily thing. We'd dated for a while when I was in freshman year, and he had apparently been less than thrilled to learn the whole truth as to why I'd been single. Apparently he spent a couple of months periodically remembering all the times he'd found me hiding in the stacks at the library, crying quietly.

I had him to thank for the fact that I was no longer the emotional wreck I had been when I started college. It was just that after a while it was obvious to both of us that the relationship wasn't going anywhere. We stayed friends, but that didn't stop me from first chewing him out for not telling me what was going on between him and Sam, and then going absolutely nuts at Sam for actually fighting with him merely because he'd called Sam on the fact that he'd been a dick to me. It was also comforting to confirm that Josh hadn't imprinted on me. There was no way in hell I was looking to go through anything even remotely related to that shit at any time in the future.

Little Sethles, to whom I'd read bedtime stories when he had nightmares, and with whom I'd practiced soccer back when he was on that ridiculous soccer team in elementary school along with Colin and Brady, and their best friend (although I suppose that sister would have been a better word for the relationship) Jimmy (the poor dear had been named after her father who had died before she was born, leaving her with the name of James Carter. Oh yes. It sucked rather mightily to be her) continued to grow up, and I could tell he was starting to miss me, seeing as I only really came into contact with him during summer break, so the summer before starting third year, when Seth was going to be a junior, I moved back home. My class schedule was such that I could actually live at home and just commute in each day. Which was nice, because I was also starting to miss the rez.


	2. Prologue: Part 2

Prologue: Part 2 – George

It was the first day of sign-on week, a week of collecting timetables, maps and student numbers, of joining student societies, and of desperately hoping you'd see someone you recognised. As I waited in line to have my picture taken for my student card I heard my name being called. I looked around to see a familiar figure waving at me like a fanatic. I jumped out of the line (which hadn't been moving anyway) to give him a hug. It was George, QB1 and captain of the Olympic Peninsula Wolves. We'd become good friends, what with my being captain of the cheerleaders.

The night Sam dumped me, I'd been sitting on the edge of the roof of the gym, weighing up the pros and cons of jumping. I'd been too proud to let him see me cry, but that didn't stop me from crying the moment I was out of his sight. I was more or less decided on jumping when I heard someone else climbing up the scaffolding on the side, crossing the roof and climbing onto the edge to sit next to me. I hadn't even looked up from where I sat, still sobbing because the boy who'd been the love of my life had just told me that not only did he no longer love me, but that he was in love with my cousin, a girl who'd been the closest thing I'd had to a sister.

The person put an arm around my shoulders. "Are you going to jump?" I immediately recognised it to be George. I'd shrugged in response. He hopped back onto the roof, and then picked me up, lifting me back to relative safety. I was sitting against the lip of the roof, knees pulled up to my chest, with my forehead resting on my knees. "I got a call from Seth. He was freaking out, saying he saw you run off after talking to Sam and he didn't know where you'd gone. I was pretty sure you'd come here. You broke up with the Neanderthal?" George knew that for the past couple of months, ever since ... I couldn't even think his name ... had disappeared, we'd been having issues. He couldn't (or wouldn't) tell me where he'd been, even though I'd been beside myself the entire time, organising search parties, hoping and praying that he'd be alright and that he'd come back. And when he reappeared he'd been different. George had never really liked Sam, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he'd known this day would come. And now here he was, having pulled me off the roof, ready to talk it out.

"Emily. She... he..." I couldn't even articulate what had happened.

George shifted back in his crouch and was silent for a moment. "Well shit." Was finally all he could come up with.

"I can't go back there." I realised. At least not for a while. I needed time to get over the initial pain away from them.

"Come stay with me. Mom and dad are out of town, and my sister's at college. Unless you'd rather jump. Because it's your choice, and I'm not going to try to stop you." He took one of my hands in his. "It'd be great if you didn't, though."

I took a shaky breath and tried to stand. I was so exhausted from crying that he needed to help me up. We climbed down the scaffolding in silence to his truck.

The next couple of days were apparently quite unpleasant. George told me later that I spent the time oscillating between extreme rage and abject misery. And he just focussed on keeping me away from sharp objects. After a week, I went back home, only to find Emily there waiting for me. So I turned around and left again. A week later, Seth called to tell me that Emily had been attacked by a bear and wanted to see me. I didn't come. Whatever we'd had between us, it was gone.

The thing that killed me the most was the fact that I couldn't hate Sam. Regardless of everything he did to me, I still couldn't bring myself to hate him. And I hated myself for not being able to.

Eventually I returned home, although if I ever saw either Emily or Sam I left La Push immediately. George's parents got used to a tearstained me turning up at random times, and treated me as if I was just one of the family. We tended not to talk about that night on the roof of the gym, and I just focussed on getting into college, my one way of getting away from everything.

Seth and I started growing. Little Sethles, who had been a pretty scrawny kid, suddenly shot up a foot and a half, and actually grew some muscle. I grew about eight inches in as many weeks, much to my surprise. Seth was just going through his growth spurt, but I'd already had mine – I'd been the same height since sophomore year.

Abruptly, Seth started acting differently. It was as if overnight, my sweet little brother had been replaced by someone else, someone I didn't know. It was disconcerting, but whenever I asked him anything he would avoid the subject. Mom and dad were treating him differently as well, letting him out at all hours of the night. He'd return looking beaten down, generally with little bits of greenery in his hair. He also seemed to stop getting bruises. He'd never been the most co-ordinated of people, so he always had bruises somewhere from walking into things, or scratches from tripping over, but suddenly those all disappeared. It was weirding me out, but since I was hitting a conversational brick wall with my family, the only person I could really talk it over with was George. He kept reassuring me that it was just Seth turning into a teenage boy. But it wasn't. I knew it was something more than that.

Then came the haircut. To be honest, I'm not too sure what came over me. It had been at the back of my mind all day that it had been a year exactly since he had dumped me. And then I'd overheard one of the cheerleaders commenting on my hair. Memories had started resurfacing – ones I didn't want to deal with. So I headed straight for the nearest pair of scissors: the ones mum had in her room for quilting. It wasn't as if I shaved it or anything, I just wanted it shorter. Out of the way, so to speak. As I cut it, I was crying. Again. It was as if anything to do with either of them would set me off again, no matter how hard I tried to forget everything that had passed between us.

By the time I was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were puffy, and I now had an irregular pixie cut. In my opinion, I looked fierce. I looked like I was ready to waste anyone who thought to cross me. It was a start. Hopefully the rest of me would catch up with my appearance.

I came downstairs, having heard everyone come home as I cut off one more memory of Sam. And all the stress and worry and everything else that mom had been bottling up all came out. Within moments we were both yelling at each other. Seth had the good sense to be absent, leaving the two of us to vent. Dad just sat there, cooly observing, waiting for everything to blow over. Only it didn't. As the anger started to take control, I felt myself shaking, and then everything exploded. I was only a wolf for a moment or so, but that was long enough, because the moment wolf-me was there in the kitchen instead of human-me, dad just sort of choked and then collapsed.

Mom caught my eyes with a look which basically told me 'get out while you can'. I didn't know why at the time, but I did what I was told – running upstairs to throw on some clothing before jumping out the window and running into the woods. I was halfway out the window when I realised why I'd shifted back so quickly. The moment I was in wolf form I could feel Sam's mind in there with me. So I got the hell out.

I also knew that dad was dead. It was a moment of insight which struck whilst I was in wolf form. I didn't know how I knew, only that I did. And it was killing me, because I knew it was my fault. I didn't even know where I was going until I was on the roof of the gym again, wondering what the hell had just happened to my life.

As if by magic, George appeared over the top of the roof. "I saw the look on your face. It was the exact same one you had on your face the last time we were up here." He took a cautious step towards me. "You're not thinking of jumping, are you?"

Everything just came out in a jumbled mess. "I killed dad and then Sam was in my head and then mom told me I had to get out and –" but by then the stress of the situation was too great and I once again shifted. This time I couldn't feel Sam's presence in my head. Only

_Paul?_

_Leah? What the hell?_

I shifted back as fast as I could. I didn't know how much he had seen, or if he knew where I was, but just in case, I wanted him out of my head. And so once again, there I was, on the roof, only this time I was completely naked thanks to the whole shifting thing. Great. George was, of course, an absolute gentleman about it, giving me his shirt without question.

"My PE stuff is in my locker." I gave him the combination, and he ran off, leaving me to deal with the fact that on top of everything else, my best friend had just seen me completely naked.

Eventually he was back, and to his credit he took the whole wolf thing very calmly. He just handed me my clothes, turned around, and asked "So what was all that about?"

I'd had some time to think it over and order things in my mind, so I started from the beginning. "Mom and I were arguing. I just got really mad, and then the next thing I know, I'm a wolf. And in that moment, I felt Sam in my head. Which is not good news. At all. And dad had a heart attack, and I know he's dead. I don't know how I know, I just know. Mom basically told me I needed to get out of the house, soon, as if something really bad was about to happen if I didn't. So I got the hell out. And just then, I felt Paul. In my head. And I don't know what to do, and it's freaking me out, and –" my babbling was cut short by a hug from George, at which point I just dissolved into tears.

"There's nothing you can do now." He whispered.

The funeral was the next day. I stood there with mom and Seth, who I now knew was a wolf. It was the obvious explanation for everything that had been going on. The whole time, I could feel Sam staring at me. He knew. I didn't know how that would affect things, but he knew.

When the funeral was over, Sam managed to get me alone. Somehow, we were surrounded by Jacob, Quil and Embry, Paul and Jared and even Seth. We were well into the woods, far separated from all the people still at the funeral.

"You can't run from the fact that you're part of the pack, Leah. We know you're one of us."

I just stood there staring at him, arms crossed over my chest. I was done crying over him, what I desperately wanted was for him to be out of my life. I stood there, without moving for what felt like an age.

He reached out as if to touch me. "Lee-lee..." he began, but was cut off by my shifting in a moment of blind fury.

_YOU DON'T GET TO CALL ME THAT. EVER. AGAIN. YOU'VE DONE MORE THAN A LIFETIME'S WORTH OF FUCKING UP, SAM. JUST LEAVE ME ALONE TO GET ON WITH MY LIFE._

_I can't let you leave. You became a wolf for a reason. It's so that you can work with us to protect our families from evil._

_I don't care. I'm done._

I was about to shift back. Screw being naked in front of all the guys, I needed to get out of Sam's head. Because he pitied me. The dickhead had the audacity to pity me. But then came the command.

_NO._

It was as if I lost all control over my actions. All I could do was obey.

Two weeks later, I was back at school, and all it took was a look from George to tell me that he knew. He knew I had to deal with being inside Sam's head, and with being the only female wolf, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Finally my acceptance letter came. I actually looked forward to the pack meeting that day, because I'd finally be able to get out.

_I'm going to college in the fall. I'm leaving._

That command came again. But this time I was ready to fight it.

_That's not your call to make. I'll be here over summer break, but I am not staying here my entire life. You saw to that._

Seth and Jake backed me up that night. I was free. For nine months, I didn't have to be anywhere near Sam's thoughts if I didn't have to be.

It was the first day of college and it was good to know that I still had my best friend nearby, just in case anything else went wrong in my trainwreck of a life.


	3. Prologue: Part 3

Prologue: Part 3 - Josh

Even though I was finally at college, I couldn't get away from Sam. Back on the rez, I thought it might just have been his proximity, but even at college, miles away, I'd still sometimes be hit with the understanding of everything I'd lost when he'd just up and left me.

It was those times that I'd make my way to the library, head to the medieval history section of the stacks, where no-one ever went, and cry.

One day, Josh found me there. Over the course of almost a year he made me realise that my world hadn't ended with Sam. That it was only just beginning.

It just couldn't last.

The main issue was the fact that I couldn't be completely honest with him. We didn't talk about what had happened before I came to college. He had the basics from Quil, and I didn't want to elaborate. But there were times, late at night, when we were lying next to each other when I'd inexplicably start crying, and he'd want to know what had happened. But I couldn't tell him because he wasn't one of the pack.

By the time he'd graduated, a year later, we'd agreed to just stay friends. I'd been in Jake's pack for almost a year, and so it was only through Quil that I found out that Josh had shifted and was in Sam's pack. He shifted a week before I was due back at college, and I knew I had to go see him. Because the moment Quil told me, all I could think was 'what if he imprints?'

He didn't. And I still don't think anyone knows exactly what happened between us, back in my freshman year. Because we knew there were some things that needed to stay in the past.

Memories.


	4. PPE Exists For A Reason

Boys, as it turns out, are stupid.

They do dumb things like misuse jumper cables. Go on fishing trips. Drop pieces of heavy machinery in such a manner that it hits their person on the way down.

It was the third with which I was concerned, because George, love him as I did, was currently writhing on the ground in pain having just dropped a remarkably weighty mill plate on his foot. As it happens, when seventy or so pounds of cast iron is dropped on a foot, steel toe boots won't do much for you. Yes, your toes will be protected, but mill plates are considerably larger than that. And apparently such flights of idiocy are painful. Go figure.

What was visible, apart from the fact that my best friend was a moron, was the fact that he didn't require an ambulance. So I stuck one of his arms over my shoulder and he started hopping to the parking lot. Which involved a lot of swearing on his part, and very minimal sympathy on mine.

Once actually in my truck, I set course for the nearest trauma centre. Luckily there happened to be one not five miles from the UW campus. Also luckily, about two miles into the drive, George passed out from shock. Although technically speaking, he didn't 'pass out' as much as he was 'assisted into unconsciousness' by me. He was busy hyperventilating, and it wasn't doing either of us any good.

Once at the hospital, it came time for me to get him inside. Luckily for all involved, George's 210 pounds were more than manageable for one such as myself. Also luckily for all involved, I was not 30 yards from the ER doors when some attractive intern arrived out of nowhere wheeling a wheelchair and offered his assistance. After taking a photograph with his phone. Something I wasn't about to question, primarily because I needed to call George's parents and tell them that their son was a moron (although my wording would be somewhat more politic); but also because he was attractive. Very attractive. And it was difficult to appreciate the view whilst carrying a giant footballer.

Once inside and past triage, hot intern guy started asking questions.

"What happened to him?" he asked, in a delightfully deep voice. "Did you guys have a fight or something?"

I raised an eyebrow. "He dropped a mill plate on his foot. He was wearing steel toes, but they didn't really get the job done." I indicated the foot in question, which did not look happy at all.

"You're joking." Quoth hot intern guy.

"Sadly no. It was a large chunk of metal."

"I'll bet. How long has he been unconscious?"

"Not more than a few minutes." I decided to leave out the fact that I'd helped with that. "I think he was going into shock."

"So there were no head injuries involved?" he asked, shining a torch in George's eyes.

"None."

Hot intern guy raised his eyebrows. "Well we may as well take a look at what's under there. Keep an eye on him and if he wakes up try to keep him from freaking out."

"Can I call his parents while I'm at it?" I asked.

"Feel free." Damn he had a cute smile.

And so I dialled, keeping an eye on George lest he come to. I doubted it, generally speaking when I cause someone to be unconscious, they stay thus for a good hour or so. Someone picked up on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Hey Helen. It's Leah."

"Hi sweetie. Is everything alright?" Given our history, she had good reason to ask.

"Not entirely. George is in the hospital."

"Why? Is he alright?"

"He'll be fine. It's just a mildly brutal foot injury." Hot intern guy glanced at me quizzically whilst he worked on George's ex-shoe. I shrugged.

"How did it happen?" Helen asked.

I tried not to laugh at the memory, because it was pretty stupid of him. "He was moving a mill plate, and he dropped it. And when you drop 70 pounds of metal on your foot, damage will occur."

"Well thanks for telling me. We'll be right there. Which hospital is he at?"

"Seattle Grace. See you soon."

"Bye."

I hung up, just in time to see what used to be George's foot. Shit was well and truly cray.

Hot intern guy just stared for a moment and then said "I'm going to call my supervisor."

"That seems necessary." I concurred.

He paged someone, and while we waited, I asked "Why did you take a photo before turning up with the wheelchair?"

He looked a tad sheepish. "My little sister runs a Tumblr blog of 'Disney moments in real life'. And not to be culturally insensitive, although I see now that it will be regardless, aesthetically speaking that was a massive Pocahontas/John Smith moment."

I considered it for a moment, gave George a quick once-over and had to concede that he was correct. "Can I see the blog?" I asked.

"I can't guarantee it'll be online yet." He said as he began typing things. "Here we go." He said, handing me an iPhone. "She's already put it up."

Lo, there was a picture of me carrying the unconscious George, with the caption 'Pocahontas _really_ wanted the conquistadores to back off'. Clever.

"Dr Matthews. Why have you called me here?" asked a voice which turned out to emanate from a diminutive African-American woman in doctor's garb.

Wordlessly, hot intern guy (I'd be referring to him as such for a while – the description fitted to perfectly) pointed at what was once George's foot. Alas no longer.

Slightly scary superior pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "Well that looks painful." She remarked before turning to me. "Are you authorised to sign some release forms?" she asked.

"I am not." I replied. "Although his parents are on their way up from Forks."

"And when did they leave?" she asked.

"A few minutes ago."

Slightly scary superior rolled her eyes. "We're going to want to get some x-rays and scans, but between you and me, there's going to be surgery involved." and thus was she gone.

Hot intern guy turned to me. "She's right. They're going to want to wait until his foot…" he seemed to be searching for the right word.

"Stabilises?" I suggested.

Hot intern guy laughed. "That." He indicated… the injury "ain't never going to stabilise. We basically just want to check that it doesn't get worse."

That made sense. Hot intern guy busied himself getting George's leg into traction. "So is he your boyfriend?" he asked.

"Best friend. Has been for years." That's right, hot intern guy. I'm single.

"Would you be able to fill in some forms?"

"I would." I replied.

"Great. Hang here for a second." And off he went, presumably to get some forms, whilst I called home. The phone rang for about twenty seconds before Seth picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sethles."

"Hi Leah." I was the only person who called him that on a regular basis. "What's up?"

"George, in a fit of idiocy, got himself hospitalised, so I'm going to be home late."

"Late being…?"

"Potentially tomorrow."

"Got it. I'll pass it on."

"Thanks, bro."

Seth really was the best sibling ever.

Anon did hot intern guy return with a clipboard full of papers requiring various personal information, the majority of which I knew, and the rest I discovered by going through George's wallet. Meanwhile, hot intern guy attached various drips and monitors to George's person.

Eventually an older doctor arrived, presumably someone from orthopaedics. He asked for some X-rays, and off was still unconscious George wheeled, leaving me with nothing to do but sit in the waiting area reading The Economist.

After a while, hot intern guy reappeared. "Are you Leah?" he asked.

"I am." I replied, closing the magazine.

"George woke up. He's asking for you."

I stood. "Lead on."

One level up and down a few corridors, I found George, all invalid-esque.

Upon seeing me, he looked suspicious for a moment. "Did you knock me out to stop me complaining?" he asked.

"Prove it." Was my response.

"I thought so." He said. "I take it you told my parents?"

"I did. I also spared no mention of your idiocy." I said, with the slightest hint of evil.

"I'll bet you did." He muttered. "So how long are you sticking around?"

"Well according to hot intern guy I get to keep tormenting you until someone signs the surgical release forms, at which point nothing happens until they start cutting you up tomorrow."

George attempted to suppress laughter.

I rolled my eyes. "He's standing behind me, isn't he."

"Oh yes." Answered George.

"My name's John, for the record." Said hot intern guy. "Although 'hot intern guy' is totally fine with me."

There was no possible response to that. "Nice to meet you." I said, trying not to groan. That was the last time I used the descriptors I come up with out loud in order to refer to people. That was awkward.

To George, he asked "Any allergies that you know of?"

The answer was none, and off hot intern guy went.

"Leah, my dear," began George, "you've really outdone yourself with that descriptor. Hot intern guy. Genius. Pure genius."

"If you weren't already in hospital, I would throw something heavy and pointed at you right now." I pointed out.

George made a 'that sounds like a logical chain of events' facial expression. "I think he likes you." He mused.

"Alas no, the painkillers have dulled your senses. He's mildly fascinated by me because he thinks I maimed you on a whim. Apparently 'he dropped a piece of machinery on his foot' is not that plausible an excuse. Or at least that's what I gathered from his repeated 'because I _totally_ believe you and am not slightly terrified to be in the same room as you' eyebrow raises."

"If that's what you want to believe, then by all means, believe it. But I have to say – that was one delicious chunk of man-candy who could not keep his eyes off of you. And if he manages to find you attractive when you're wearing a pair of coveralls and steel-cap boots, that's impressive."

George's comment reminded me that I was still in my safety gear. Luckily it was an easy enough fix, off came the coveralls, and a quick trip to my truck allowed me to replace the steel-caps with some converses. Not that they were unbelievably ugly boots (I had painted and then glittered them the moment they'd been purchased. After all, I needed them for safety reasons, but damned if I was going to wear ugly boots that weren't sparkly), they just didn't mesh with my look. Insofar as my look wasn't either 'grumpy lesbian ready to kick the shit out of the patriarchy' or 'tradeswoman on her way home after a day on a construction site'.

Back inside George's room, he was staring at the ceiling. "Any news from my parents?" he asked.

"Not since I called them. They should be here any second now."

As it turned out, I was wrong. It was a solid fifteen minutes until they turned up. When they did, it was with much 'how could you be so stupid'ing. They made sure he was alright and then went back home. After all, there was nothing they could really do until the surgery happened. I on the other hand had a whole pile of Structures that I needed to work on, and George, medicated or not, happened to be very good at the Newtonian Mechanics based subjects. Which Structures very much was.

Three problems in, I was interrupted by George groaning.

"What's up? Are you alright?"

He just stared at me with a look of 'did you really just ask that question'. "No. I'm drugged to the gills and you're doing mechanics near me. My brain hurts. Also, that number should have been negative and you've been compounding the error for the last ten calculations."

I looked at my work again and saw he was right. Bastard. "Fine. No more homework tonight." I packed up my textbooks and got George to move over so that I could get on the bed next to him.

"Not that the bro time isn't lovely," he said, "don't you need to head home?"

I shrugged and rested my head on his shoulder. "I'll crash with someone once they kick me out."

He rested his head on mine. "You probably should get home you know."

I groaned. "I can't face it right now."

"What's up?" he asked, manoeuvring an arm around me. "Seriously. Neither of us want a repeat of what happened last time you decided to keep things to yourself."

That was for sure. "Josh has been trying to get me alone so he can 'talk' to me. Which can only mean one thing."

"He's realised that you're the best thing that ever happened to him, and that he wants you, he needs you, oh baby, oh baby?"

I snorted. That I could deal with. Ok, probably not, but at least Josh was attractive without a shirt, smart, funny and an incredible kisser. Off topic. "I hope not. He probably wants to give me a heads up regarding the fact that they're going to be engaged soon." I took in a shaky breath. I hated the fact that every so often I'd still get choked up talking about them.

George gave me a squeeze. "You knew this was going to happen eventually. It'll be fine."

"That's not it at all." I clarified. "The moment he asks her to marry him, everyone's going to start treading carefully around me, constantly checking that I'm alright, that I'm not going to spiral into depression and such. I'm past that. Mostly. I just don't want to have to deal with everyone's sympathy. I hate it when people start pussyfooting around me."

George was silent for a moment. "Give Josh a call."

I stayed still.

"Seriously. Give him a call. While I'm here."

"But what if…" I trailed off.

"You won't. You'll be fine, and I'll be right here."

I groaned into his shirt and then got my phone, sitting down in the corner opposite the bed. Josh was, naturally, on speed dial. I pressed the button and listened to it ring. He picked up almost immediately.

"Leah, are you alright?"

I smiled slightly. "I'm fine. Stuck in Seattle for the moment, but otherwise all good."

"Do you need me to come get you?"

I smiled a little more. He was the sweetest guy I knew. "No, I'm here because George, the great idiot, got himself horribly injured, so I'm hanging with him until his surgery tomorrow."

"Clothing caught in machinery?" he asked.

"Dropped a seventy pound chunk of metal on his foot."

I heard a wince. "So why'd you call?"

I took a deep breath. "You wanted to talk."

"Are you sure now's –" I cut him off.

"If I don't just talk to you now, I'll keep avoiding."

"George guilted you into this, didn't he."

"Little bit." I admitted.

Josh chuckled. "Sam's planning to go over and talk to you. We both know why. I tried to talk him out of it, but he pulled rank. I said it would just make things worse, but he seems to think you need closure or something like that. So far you've never been at home when he's come around, but just be aware. Hopefully he'll run into Seth, who's just been itching to share his opinions on the matter." He paused for a moment. "Are you ok, Lee?"

I nodded.

"Leah? Are you still… words. Out loud." Every so often it was really obvious that he was a teacher.

"She's got that look. The panic eyes." Called George, who was well aware of the fact that Josh would be able to hear him, and assumed that my protracted lack of movement was an issue. Which it was. I was doing my very best not to have a badly timed breakdown.

I heard a noise which I assumed was Josh running his hands through his hair which was what he tended to do when he was worried about something. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Now I need you to go to wherever George is, and I need you to give him your phone, and I need you to stay there until I arrive. And you need to breathe."

I let out the breath that I had been holding without noticing that I had been doing it.

"Good. I need to talk to him before I go, so I need you to give him the phone now and then just wait there for me." I nodded, stood shakily and curled up on the bed next to George, handing him the phone and trying to keep everything under control.

"Hey."

"What happened?" asked Josh.

"She was talking to you, and then she just stopped everything and got that look…" he paused. "You know, that look she gets when –"

"I know the one."

"Well that's what just happened."

"Shit. This is why I wanted to talk to her in person. Look, I'll be there in fifteen. Just hold the fort until then."

"Sure thing."

George hung up the phone and did what he always did – kept me away from sharp objects. "Tell me what's going on, Leah."

I took a moment to try to compose myself. "It's degree stress, manifesting in this. I just need to ride it out and I'll be fine."

"You don't really believe that, do you."

I didn't answer. Meanwhile George stroked my hair and waited for Josh to arrive.

When he did, he paused for a moment at the door, taking in the lay of the land. "Thank you." He said to George, who replied "Thank god, I've been fighting the pain meds to stay awake."

"I've got it from here." Said Josh, who crouched down so that he was at eye level with me. "Leah," he said taking one of my hands, "I'm going to take you home so we can talk. Ok?"

I nodded.

"Good. Get yourself upright." He took off his jacket and put it over my shoulders, and then while I sat upright, he picked up all of my college stuff. When he was again in front of me, he took my hand and pulled me upright. "Can you walk?" he asked.

I nodded.

Slowly, with his free arm around me, we made our way to my truck. Josh then installed me in the passenger seat, walked around the car and started the ignition, taking a moment to see how I was going. I was managing to keep it together. Just.

Josh turned around to look at me. "Do you want to talk?" he asked.

"No."

"You're going to have to at some point, Lee." He pointed out.

"Now is not that time. I am not the girl who has massive crying sessions in her car." At least, not any more.

"Fine. How's college?" Josh had learned that keeping me talking until I was someplace I could ride out the breakdown unencumbered was the best way to go.

"I finished one of my thesis simulations today. How are things at the school?" I asked. Josh was an elementary school teacher.


End file.
